


progress

by worstgirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Angst, Christian Imagery, F/F, Fallen Angels, Feelings of Inadequacy, Happy Ending, Lesbian, Lesbians, Magic? somewhat?, This is what happens when a lesbian atheist raised catholic is told to write what she knows, angels turned mortal, referenced internalized homophobia, written for my creative writing class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21575059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstgirl/pseuds/worstgirl
Summary: She had a lot she still had to get used to— like eating, and cutting her hair, and realizing that magic’s not always easy once you’ve crashed down through the bottom of the social pyramid and landed flat on your back, coughing and spluttering.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	progress

Heylel found Sera staring at a shattered tea mug on the floor of the small kitchen in their apartment, a tea bag dangling from her fingers by her skirt’s hem. It was the third time that week she’d seen Sera like this, blank and tired, and Heylel was doing her best not to get upset. She knew that it was perfectly reasonable for this to be happening, and the most she could do was just be there for her, but how was she supposed to do that? 

The fabric of Sera’s thrift store sweater under her hand was a bit scratchy, making Heylel’s skin crawl, but she gently pried the thin string from her fingers anyways. “C’mon, Ser.” She said, her voice soft as she set the sachet on the cold marble countertop. It took her barely a second to will the mug to reform, the shards pulling together and leaving it spinning slightly on the floor. Sera blinked at Heylel, and it was odd to see just two eyes looking back at her. It truly showed how different she was, her demotion from power. 

“How do you still do that?” Sera’s voice was almost silent. Her gaze slid back to the cup, picking it up. She turned it over and over in her hands, as if contemplating shattering it again. It was smooth all around, no cracks or weaknesses, just a perfectly normal cup. Well, it was emblazoned with a corny slogan above a bear holding a heart— I love you bear-y much. Heylel had picked it up at a plant sale some kid was having, hoping that the plant inside would be something for Sera to care for while Heylel wasn’t there. It had flourished within a few days, until it had to be transplanted into another, bigger pot. Yet something was still off with Sera.

“I don’t know, I just... do it.” It was hard to explain, honestly. It felt like a fire in her veins, sparks at her fingertips, embers in her heart. It was like breathing, almost, if your breath burned on its way down and scorched on its way up. “It’s my power. I just know how to use it.”

“It’s his, you’re taking his power.” Sera mumbled, her hair slipping over her shoulder and falling into her face. It was shorter than it had ever been before. Heylel had taken to trimming it in their kitchen ever since Sera had fell, leaving her hair singed and split, and the other still had to get used to it. She had a lot she still had to get used to— like eating, and cutting her hair, and realizing that magic’s not always easy once you’ve crashed down through the bottom of the social pyramid and landed flat on your back, coughing and spluttering. 

Heylel sighed, dropping Sera’s wrist, moving to sit on top of the countertop. She also had a penchant for tossing things back and forth, almost seeming to be catlike in her mannerisms. “It’s not his. Just like I’m not his, and you’re not his. It’s yours, and so are you. You have to make it your own power.”

“That’s not how this works, Lel!” Sera burst out, throwing the mug to the floor. It shattered, sending shards and pieces flying in every direction like shrapnel from a grenade. Every one missed Sera by a centimeter, as if the porcelain realized that she was too good to break. 

Stepping back, Sera covered her mouth like she was about to vomit. Outbursts of anger were almost unheard of from angels like Sera. Then again, so were the apparently treacherous feelings Sera had towards Heylel. It took Heylel barely a second to be in front of her, taking her shoulders gently in her hands. “I promise you, it is.” She said, her voice gentle, even as the shards on the ground left imprints through her socks. Apparently the mug had no issues hurting her, she thought absentmindedly. “It’s your power, it’s always been yours. He just amplifies it.” She resisted the urge to snap about how it wasn’t fair, the division of powers. It was never fair, how some angels had so much raw power that was harnessed, constrained, and locked in a cage like a bird, only to be taken out on a leash like some circus animal. It made her sick to her stomach. “You can do this. Just think about the mug, as it was.” 

Sera shook her head, barely looking at Heylel. Her eyes were fixed on a piece of the mug on the ground, the smiling, cartoonish bear face peeking out from under Heylel’s heel. Heylel stepped away, brushing the mug’s remnants from her soles. 

“It’s his.” She murmured, and Heylel had to take a deep breath— in through the nose, out through the mouth. She sometimes forgot that Sera was so used to things coming naturally to her that when there was the slightest bit of anything that hindered her progress, she blatantly ignored it. It was the chronic good girl’s fallacy. 

“It is not.” She said, trying her best to sound calming. “Mine still works, and I’m about as far from him as you can get.” She’d meant to say it jokingly, but there was an undertone of bitterness to it. Of course Sera had a hard time detaching herself from being holy. Heylel had always sort of known that he had so little control over her that it was only a matter of time before she became too defective to handle and exploded into a supernova of holy fire. Sera, on the other hand, had done well, or pretended to, and had been his little lapdog, coming to his beck and call at the slightest wave of his hand. 

The tiniest smile twitched at Sera’s lips, and some of Heylel’s anger ebbed. It was such a simple gesture, but it was still so sweet. “I don’t think you ever were his, not truly.” Sera said, looking up at Heylel. Her eyes, green-grey and hauntingly beautiful, fixed on Heylel’s. “You were always your own... being. It was like watching someone try to catch smoke in their hands. You try your hardest, but it always drifts away.” 

“Or into your face.” Heylel said with a small grin, which only grew when Sera laughed. She loved that laugh. 

“You do have a habit of getting in people’s faces.” Sera’s smile faded a bit, and she looked back down at the mug on the ground. There was a moment of silence, before Heylel broke it again, her voice just as quiet as Sera’s was earlier. It was odd, Heylel was usually loud and out there and proud of herself, not demure. 

“I can teach you how to let go. If you want me to.” 

Sera’s eyes snapped up, searching Heylel’s face for some sort of answer, some lie or falsification, some hope. “Can you?” She nudged the shards on the ground with her foot, the little clinking noises filling the pause before Heylel spoke.

“For you? I’d do pretty much anything.” It sounded like the sappy romance spiel they pulled on rom-coms and dramas where the woman was draped dramatically in the man’s arms, dying from some wound that somehow made it look even gore look more romantic, but it was true. Heylel had done so much just for Sera. She’d kept it up, the facade of being good. She’d covered for her mistakes, she’d taken the blame, she’d fallen and burned just so Sera could stay where she wanted to be, where she deserved to be— where she’d fallen from, whether Heylel liked it or not. 

The silence was broken only by the ticking cat clock Sera had found at a vintage shop. Heylel almost wanted to smash it, sometimes, with the annoying tail flicking back and forth and the eyes sliding side to side, as if it was watching her. “I’m sorry.” Sera murmured, after a moment or so, or three tail flicks.

That threw Heylel off for a moment, blinking at her. “What are you apologizing for? You know I don’t care about the mug. It’s just a mug. I can get more of them. And it wasn’t exactly—“

“I don’t mean the mug, Lel.” Sera murmured, and her hand reached out, her fingertips gently touching Heylel’s wrist, until she opened up her hand to slip them together. “I meant— I mean being so...” She paused for a moment, as if trying to find the right word. “Self-centered.”

“You’re not—“

Sera held up her other hand, making Heylel’s words die in her throat as Sera continued. “I just mean— you’ve done so much for me, and all I’ve done is sit here and— and do nothing. You’re so... human, and you make it seem so easy to fit it everywhere you go. I just— sit around and grow plants and feel like I’m goddamn useless!” She seemed almost angry with herself, but she took a breath. “I want to learn how to do this, but I don’t want to be some fallen angel you took in just because you feel like you had to.”

Heylel winced. She’d never meant for it to sound like that. “I don’t take in just any fallen angel, Ser.” She said gently, squeezing her hand. “You’re not a burden or anything.” She took a breath in, holding it for a moment, before breathing out. “Let’s do this, or we’ll have to sweep it up.” She moved, stepping sideways to stand next to the other girl, still holding her hand. “You have to try and remember that he doesn’t control you anymore.”

“He controls everything—“

“No.” She said insistently, looking over at Sera. “You’re just you, now. Not his angel, not his messenger, just you. Just Sera.” 

“Just Sera?” It was repeated, as if Sera had forgotten what that meant. It was almost heartbreaking, the idea of that. That the bright, shining angel of old had been reduced to a scared, broken girl clinging to Heylel’s hand like a lifeline. 

“Uh-huh.” Heylel murmured, squeezing her hand. “Just Sera.” She paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to ground her. “Just you, the one who always knows what the difference is between all the kinds of flowers, even if you didn’t live here for most of your existence. The one who gets excited by the animals, who sees the brightness in everything. Who sees the brightness in— in me.” Heylel swallowed, wondering when the lump in her throat had grown, restricting her ability to breathe. “The one who had so much control over everything, who just needs to learn how to mix chaos and order. Just Sera.”

Silence, until Sera nodded, stretching out her hand. The other one held tight to Heylel, shaking a bit, as if she was scared, or nervous. She didn’t waver, eyes closing, as if concentrating on something wasn’t in her field of vision. 

In a scrape of porcelain on hardwood, the mug drew in on itself like a magnet, swirling and spinning and clinking a bit as it did so. Soon, resting on the floor was a cracked mug, looking almost precariously whole, like it was ready to fall apart at the slightest touch of a finger. 

Heylel knelt, reaching out to grasp the handle, but as soon as her fingertips brushed against it, the cracks opened again and it cascaded to the floor again in an almost perfect circle of white and coloured shards. 

Sera mumbled a curse, looking upset with herself. “I didn’t do it.” She muttered, her hand dropping to her side, gripping the fabric of her skirt so tightly that it looked nearly painful. “I didn’t—“ 

“We can try again.” Heylel interrupted her. “And again, and again, and again. It’s not gonna automatically work just because you want it to, y’know. It takes time.” She tried not to think about the times she’d tried to do things like that and failed, over and over until she just gave up, feeling just as worthless as Sera. “Time, and patience, and practice. Try again.”

Try again she did, and again, and again. It kept cracking, and Heylel could tell she was getting frustrated. “One more time.” Sera looked like she was about to protest, her hair sliding into her eyes again. Heylel reached out, brushing it back gently. “One more time.” She repeated.

This time, the mug reformed perfectly, spinning like a dropped coin on the floor. Heylel picked it up gingerly, wary of any sharp shards poking out. It didn’t crack this time, although there were some tiny ones the size of hairs if she squinted at it. 

Sera looked at her, eyes sparkling with pride, and Heylel was reminded of the tiny little plant from the mug. It had looked so pitiful, so tiny, cut off from the original plant and stuck in dirt it didn’t belong in. But now it was almost twice its size, looking like it was continuously growing in their little flower pot in the living room. All she had to do was take care of Sera, nurture her, help her to grow, and she could be just as good as she’d always been. 

Then Heylel turned the mug over, catching sight of the picture on the side. She had to suppress a full-out laugh, making her laugh come out as a snort. “Hey, Ser?” She said, sounding amused. 

Sera looked up at her, cocking her head like a curious puppy. “What?”

“I love you much-y bear.” She said, showing her the mug’s newly formed bear face, a little disfigured, seeing as the words were mixed around. Sera’s face fell, looking almost disgruntled for a moment, before Heylel caught her wrist. “Hey. It’s progress. And we’ll keep working on it, until you’re better than ever.” She slipped her hand into Sera’s again. “And no matter what happens, I’m gonna be by your side.” Grabbing the tea bag from the counter, she dangled it in front of the shorter girl’s face, making her laugh a bit. “C’mon. Tea time? Let’s see if this mug’s functional.”

Sera took the tea bag, the barest hint of a smile on her lips. “Yeah. It’s progress.”

**Author's Note:**

> so i created these characters for my creative writing class and now i’m attached to them
> 
> so here you go ready for this to be ignored
> 
> stay safe, and stay wonderful, loves!!
> 
> ~ percy


End file.
